


as ever

by gotchick



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8299862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotchick/pseuds/gotchick
Summary: it's been more than forty years, but every time jackson goes, he still seems to take a piece of jaebum along. (time travel au)





	

**2, 42**

Even before Jaebum was old enough to know what a guardian angel was, he already knew that he had one. He didn’t know how to say the words yet, how to even talk or make any sounds except incomprehensible gurgling. The airplane and clouds mobile that dangled above his baby cot was his entire world, and he didn’t understand the concept of angels but he just knew instinctively that he had one, an invisible and protective being watching over him from nearby. He could sense his presence in the warm ripples of the air, fingers that were not his parents’ tucking the blankets under his chin when he was asleep and brushing across his cheeks so gently Jaebum almost mistook them for the wind. Sometimes, Jaebum thought he could hear a soft, sweet voice singing lullabies in another language, sounding like the melodic strains of a far-away radio.

 

**6, 48**

Jaebum is building a sandcastle in the field behind his family’s house, his nanny having left him alone for a few minutes to run back and fix his tea. A rustling in the nearby shrubbery disturbs the tranquil afternoon quiet, and Jaebum looks up, his eyes widening to see a man climbing out of the bushes, twigs and leaves caught on his clothes and hair. Jaebum’s spade slips from his hand, and he gets to his feet unsteadily.

The man lowers himself into a crouch so his eyes are level with Jaebum’s, but makes no move to approach. “Don’t be afraid,” he says, and his eyes are kind. “Jaebum-ah."

It’s the way the man says his name that stops him, like he knows Jaebum, like he’s said it a million times before, everyday. The man is elderly, almost as old as Jaebum’s grandfather, his face weathered and aged, shoulders hunched in a slouch. But the fine lines around his twinkling eyes crinkle youthfully as he smiles.

"Hyung,” he says, and Jaebum frowns in confusion because he doesn’t understand why this man who is obviously ten times his age is calling him _hyung_. Jaebum is the baby of his family and all his cousins are older than him. This is the first time he’s ever been called _hyung_ and he’s not sure he likes it. But he has no time to protest as the man continues, switching from Korean to another language Jaebum doesn’t understand.

As the man speaks, his eyes fill with tears that overflow and spill down his cheeks. Jaebum doesn’t know why this strange man who just popped out of a bush and knows his name is crying, but he knows that he shouldn’t talk to him, that he should run away. His parents have warned him about talking to strangers. But there is something about the warmth of the man’s eyes that makes him take a hesitant step forward, afraid but curious.

A surprised smile breaks through the man’s tears, and he looks like he wants to come closer too but holds himself back. “You were always so brave,” he says in Korean. “But don’t be too brave, okay?"

Jaebum doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or how this man would know anything about him when he hasn’t seen him before, but he just nods because he sounds like Jaebum’s parents. When he reaches out a timid hand to wipe the man’s tears away, he finally takes a miniscule step towards Jaebum, closing the distance between them by a fraction. He is raising his own large, wrinkled palm to meet Jaebum’s when his nanny’s shout echoes across the field. “Jaebummie, come and have your tea!"

They both drop their arms, startled. The man looks disappointed but resigned as he inclines his head towards the house. “Run along, then.” He doesn’t make a move to touch Jaebum, but his voice seems to hold a thousand invisible caresses.

Jaebum shuffles his feet uncertainly, knowing that if his nanny comes out and finds the man they will both be in trouble. So he reluctantly swivels on his heels and breaks into a sprint across the grass, towards the familiar open backdoor of his house. But he can feel the weight of the man’s gaze still watching him, and can’t resist turning to sneak a glance. The man is still crouching in the same position, too far to make out his expression but he lifts a friendly hand in a wave.

The second time Jaebum looks back, he’s gone.

 

**8, 39**

Two years later, Jaebum sees the old man again on the road home from primary school. He is dressed in a flannel jacket and plaid slacks and seems to materialize from behind a tree. For some reason, he looks younger, his posture more erect, but the way the fine lines fanning from the corners of his sparkling eyes crease into an impish smile is unmistakable, unforgettable. As is the way he says Jaebum’s name, like the words are an enchantment, a prayer.

"It’s me,” he continues urgently, eyes searching Jaebum’s. “Jackson."

When Jaebum doesn’t reply, the unfamiliarity of the name throwing him, the man groans and buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess out of this, aren’t I? Please don’t run away. I swear, I’m not a scary man –"

"I won’t,” Jaebum interrupts, and the man stops short, looking stunned. “You’re not scary,” he says, hoping he sounds daring and impressive.

The smile that lights the man’s face up is the only thing that hasn’t changed. “Thank you,” he says quietly, and this time he reaches out to ruffle Jaebum’s hair gently. Jaebum feels like his pet kitten as he nuzzles instinctively into the man’s touch, feeling bereft the moment he withdraws his hand.

The man takes a deep breath. “Let me start at the beginning. My name is Jackson, and I’m –” he stops, seemingly struggling to find the words to go on.

"I know who you are!” Jaebum declares triumphantly, and Jackson looks surprised. “W-who?"

"You’re my guardian angel, right?” Jaebum replies confidently, pleased with himself. Jackson barks out a laugh.

"Angel?” he repeats doubtfully. “I’m no angel, but I guess that’ll do... for now.” He looks like he wants to say more, but is silenced by the look of utter contentment on Jaebum’s face. “I knew it!” he says smugly.

They reach a traffic light, and Jackson takes Jaebum’s hand when he tries to dash across the road, his grasp gentle but tight with worry as he admonishes sternly, “Watch out for cars!” Jackson’s hand is large and callused but warm, swallowing Jaebum’s smaller one effortlessly. He doesn’t let go even after they’ve crossed the street, lacing their fingers together and swinging their joined arms all the way as he walks Jaebum back home.

"Angel ahjusshi,” Jaebum blurts out bluntly, “Why is your hair grey now? The last time, it was all white."

Jackson laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. “The last time? God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know we met before. Again. I thought this was the first time. The last time.” He stumbles over his words, stopping abruptly and looking relieved as they reach Jaebum’s front door.

Jaebum is disappointed, but he hears the noises of his mother bustling in the kitchen, preparing his after-school snack, and knows that Jackson has to leave. Jaebum knows that it’s not right for him to be talking to a stranger, especially someone so old, that it might even be dangerous. But he doesn’t know how to explain the feeling of unconditional safety he gets from Jackson, the unaccountable certainty that Jackson would never, ever hurt him. No one else would understand this blind trust even if he told them. He wants to ask, _when is the next time I’ll see you?_ but instead puts his hand on the gate and pushes it open.

"By the way,” Jackson says as he’s halfway across the front yard, and Jaebum’s heart leaps as he turns around to look at him. “Don’t call me ahjusshi,” Jackson mumbles, his smile sheepish. “It makes me feel old."

 

**11, 40**

"Jackson,” Jaebum breathes the next time he sees a dark figure looming over his bed, eyes luminescent in the moonlight. It’s a muggy summer night and Jaebum had kicked off his blankets restlessly, starting awake when he felt the weight of a hand tugging them up. It’s not the first time he’s felt a shadowy presence when he’s drifting into sleep at night, but this time the apparition inhales audibly in response.

"You remember me,” he says, voice thick and eyes glistening suspiciously bright. Jaebum nods and sits up, throat dry. He can count on his fingers the number of times he’s thought of Jackson during these three years, wondered if he would ever come back, wondered how and where he was, even wondered if he was just a figment of Jaebum’s imagination. But now he is standing at the foot of Jaebum’s bed, looking solid and real and anything but.

Jackson’s eyes comb over him with a penetrating intensity that makes him shiver. “How have you been?” he asks, voice low, and Jaebum swallows over the lump in his throat. “O-okay."

He hovers a respectful distance away, seeming afraid to approach, and Jaebum boldly shifts to the side of his bed and pats the space beside him. “You can sit down."

Jackson edges tentatively forward, and Jaebum catches the white flash of his teeth in the dark. The mattress dips as he sits down beside Jaebum, and the warmth radiating from his body reassures Jaebum more than anything that Jackson is just as human as he is.

"You’re growing up so fast,” Jackson says fondly. “The last time I saw you, you were only this tall.” He places a hand in the air barely a foot over Jaebum’s bed, and Jaebum flushes. “I wasn’t that short!"

Jackson chuckles and ducks from the pillow Jaebum hits him lightly with. Although Jackson is an elder, he doesn’t seem to mind Jaebum’s roughhousing and Jaebum doesn’t feel the uncomfortable need to be respectful and formal with him like his parents and other adults. There is something so youthful, so childlike about Jackson despite his appearance that makes Jaebum forget his age.

Suddenly, the smile slips from Jackson’s lips and his face visibly pales, even in the dim. “Jaebum,” he says, clutching Jaebum’s hand unexpectedly. “I’m sorry this is so abrupt, but I have to tell you the truth. You’re old enough now."

"Old enough for what?” Jaebum breathes. The exhilarating light in Jackson’s eyes, the rabbit-quick thump of his pulse in his wrist makes Jaebum feel like he’s on the verge of a life-altering discovery, that the next words Jackson says will change his life forever. And they do.

"I have a... power,” Jackson says delicately. “I can... I can travel through time."

Jaebum’s jaw drops as he gapes at him, dumbstruck. This is starting to feel like an extremely vivid dream, but the tightness of Jackson’s grip on his hand keeps him tethered to reality.

"You mean... you’re from the f-future?” he chokes out, palms suddenly clammy. It had been one thing when he thought Jackson was a mysterious but benevolent celestial being, his bodyguard from the heavens, even when he had grown too old to believe in things like angels or Santa Claus. It’s another for Jackson to possess supernatural powers straight out of sci-fi, far too close to the realm of ghosts and spirits for Jaebum to be comfortable.

Jaebum thinks he’s being subtle, but Jackson flinches at the way he recoils minutely in fear. “Not exactly,” he manages a weak laugh. “Well, yes... I’m from a couple of decades later, but still in this lifetime. I’m sorry,” he adds, seeing the way Jaebum’s eyebrows knit. “I know it’s confusing."

Confused is the least of what Jaebum is feeling right now. Mostly he’s torn between a mixture of shock and disbelief, and the hope that this is a very bizarre nightmare he will wake up from any time now. Jackson reaches out towards him, but before Jaebum can think he snaps, “Don’t touch me."

Jackson winces, stung, as if the words are arrows, and Jaebum is immediately flooded with guilt. Betrayal and anger at Jackson for blindsiding him like that battle inside him, but Jaebum clings on to logic and common sense and tries to convince himself that this is a horrible practical joke, that any second Jackson will burst out laughing and shout, “Gotcha!"

He takes a deep breath. “Prove it."

Jackson looks at him, his eyes filled with so much sadness that it takes Jaebum’s breath away. “Okay,” he says softly, and then right before Jaebum’s unblinking eyes, Jackson disappears.

 

**12, 45**

Jaebum has imagined this scenario so many times that he can no longer differentiate between dreamscape and reality: the next time Jackson appears in his world, in his time. He has thought of a million different things to say, ranging from sarcastic to apologetic to cold to indifferent, but when Jackson finally appears it’s the next summer and almost a year has passed, and Jaebum finds that he is unable to lie about the only emotion he has been honestly feeling – missing.

Because not one of these three hundred and sixty-five days had passed without Jaebum thinking of Jackson, wondering where he was right now, how old he was, if he was safe and happy, if he was thinking of Jaebum the way Jaebum was thinking of him. Sometimes he felt uncomfortably jealous when he pictured Jackson travelling to visit other times, other boys, while others he just felt worried when he realized that other people might not be as accepting of Jackson’s strange power as he was, that they might ostracize or even capture him to a lab to examine and experiment. He ricocheted violently between a vast spectrum of positive and negative feelings, sometimes wishing he had never met Jackson, and others feeling like meeting Jackson was the best thing that had ever happened in his short life. His parents assumed he was going through the usual phase of adolescent angst and growing pains, but Jaebum knew that it was all Jackson’s fault that Jaebum took hours to walk home from school because he was checking behind every tree, that he was late for class and fell asleep during lessons because he lay in bed every night tossing and turning as he searched the flickering moonlight for a familiar shadow. It was senseless and stupid because Jackson was just a creepy old man Jaebum had met thrice and had claimed he could time-travel, and Jaebum had no reason to be so attached to him.

But then he thought of the brilliant warmth of Jackson’s smile, the temperature of his hand and how carefully it had held Jaebum’s as they crossed the road, the sadness in his eyes as he looked at Jaebum, like Jaebum was so beautiful and precious that it made him want to cry. No one had ever looked at Jaebum like that before in his life. The only time he had seen a look like that in anyone’s eyes was the way his father looked at his mother when he thought Jaebum wasn’t watching.

 

Of course, Jaebum doesn’t leap into Jackson’s arms the moment he appears that summer afternoon when Jaebum is sprawled in his bedroom after school. Even though he wants to, Jaebum is no longer the six or eight-year-old who can be freely affectionate without shyness. Now, Jaebum is self-conscious and reticent, glowering rebelliously at Jackson as he hesitantly approaches.

"Jaebum?” Jackson whispers uncertainly, his eyes beseeching. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to see me, I’ll go."

He moves towards the window, and Jaebum shouts sharply, stopping him in his tracks. When Jackson turns back, there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"You’ll break your neck,” Jaebum says roughly, trying to preserve his dignity. “It’s the second floor."

Jackson’s lip twitches, a bemused smile tugging at the corners. “Are you worried for me?” he asks brazenly, advancing towards Jaebum’s bed as Jaebum shrinks against the wall and scoffs nervously. “Yeah, right."

Jackson looks so disappointed that it throws Jaebum, making him blurt out, “What took you so long to come back?"

The words hang in the silence between them, sounding far too needy and spoilt, and Jaebum curses inwardly. But Jackson just looks at him seriously, his eyes regretful as he closes the last few steps between them and perches gingerly on the edge of Jaebum’s bed. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice stirs something deep in Jaebum’s chest. “I’ve been trying to come back to this time for the past five years. But unfortunately, it’s not something I can control.” He laughs wryly, but Jaebum can see the way his hands are clenched helplessly in the sheets, his knuckles pale.

 _Five years_. That explained why Jackson looked noticeably older than the last time Jaebum saw him, more than a year older, his temples dusted with ashy silver. So what had been one year for Jaebum had been five for Jackson. Jackson had spent five years not knowing whether Jaebum had forgiven him, not knowing that Jaebum wasn’t even angry at all. And if this year had been interminable for Jaebum, then it must have been unimaginably more so for Jackson.

A pang of guilt stabs Jaebum’s chest. If only he had been more mature back then and not judged Jackson so harshly, if only he had not let anger cloud his senses and said the words Jackson needed to hear before he left. He can’t bring himself to spit out the words I'm sorry, but Jackson seems to read the look in his eyes like a book as his own soften.

"Oh, Jaebummie,” he says, curling his arms around Jaebum’s body. “It’s okay. It’s not as if I didn’t see you for five years. I just didn’t see _this_ you."

Jackson’s eyes sparkle conspiratorially, and Jaebum’s heart catches. Does that mean that Jackson will travel to him more times in the future, or even that in Jackson’s time, Jaebum is there, too? Contemplating the mechanics of how it works makes Jaebum’s brain hurt, so he quickly fires at Jackson, “Where are you from?"

Jackson looks surprised by his urgency, but smiles indulgently. “Hong Kong."

Jaebum scrunches up his face, more confused than ever. He’s never been to Hong Kong, and all he knows about it is that it’s a country far away from Korea. “How do you know how to speak Korean then?” he interrogates.

Jackson’s smile broadens sheepishly. “You taught me,” he confesses.

Jaebum’s mouth falls open. “Me? When?” he croaks.

"When I was a little boy,” Jackson replies softly, his eyes distant and clouded until they meet Jaebum’s and seem to refocus. “Jaebum-ah,” Jackson says simply. “I’ve known you all my life."

Jaebum struggles to digest this. Jackson is so old, older than Jaebum can count on his fingertips. It’s impossible that he could’ve known Jaebum for so many years when Jaebum is merely twelve. But if Jackson says so – Jaebum looks at the smile on his face, open, honest, as if he can see into all the little crevices of Jaebum’s heart, and he believes Jackson.

"Why do you call me _hyung_?” Jaebum continues questioning relentlessly. Jackson has been here for more than an hour, longer than he’s ever been before, and Jaebum knows that the clock is ticking. He can see it in the way Jackson’s lips have lost their colour, his smile unflagging but his hands twisting anxiously in the folds of his grey shirt, the way he looks like he might be swept away by a gust of wind any minute if Jaebum doesn’t hold on to him tight.

Jackson’s laugh is weak but genuine. “Because in our time, the real one, you’re one year older than me.” He tweaks Jaebum’s nose playfully.

"One year older?” Jaebum gasps. He can’t imagine being older than Jackson, maybe taller so Jackson will have to look up at him, respect him, just as smart as Jackson so he’ll be able to talk to him as an equal, maybe funny too so he can make Jackson laugh. Maybe the Jaebum who is a year older than Jackson is strong and powerful and handsome, sweeping Jackson off his feet, instead of his bumbling, childish twelve-year-old self.

"Jaebum,” Jackson murmurs, and Jaebum snaps out of his reverie to see Jackson disintegrating into thin air before him, just as unbelievable as the first time, even more mindblowing in the light of day. “Hyung –” Jackson starts, the rest of his sentence swallowed by silence until only his imploring eyes are left, and then those too fade away.

 

**13, 46**

"Miss me?” Jaebum leaps out of his skin when he hears a familiar voice trudging home listlessly from school on afternoon, and he whips around, unable to believe his eyes when he sees Jackson, looking almost exactly the same as he did the last time, his smile even more impossibly blinding than the one burned into Jaebum’s memory.

This time, Jaebum throws his arms around Jackson breathlessly, breathing out a laugh of sheer happiness and relief. Before Jackson can say anything else, Jaebum is dragging him authoritatively down a shortcut in a nearby lane towards a deserted mossy riverbank. The water of the lake glistens in the sunlight, so clear they can see straight into the transparent depths. They settle down on the soft bed of moss, sighing in satisfaction.

Over the course of the past year, Jaebum has spent days and months compiling a list of questions that he wants to ask Jackson the next time they meet, but the moment they do, they seem to fly out of his head. His mind is dazedly blank, bleached empty by the dazzling starburst of Jackson’s grin, which seems to steal and reflect all the light from the late afternoon sun.

They quickly exchange ages, which has unconsciously become their routine every time they meet now. Jaebum is indescribably relieved that this time, the gap between their meetings is nearly the same for both of them. He doesn’t know what he would do if this Jackson had been a younger one, one who had not yet explained the truth to Jaebum. Jaebum doesn’t know how he would even begin to clarify all the convoluted events that have happened to a clueless Jackson. He has spent a year thinking and investigating Jackson’s skill, drawing complicated diagrams and equations, but Jaebum is no closer to comprehending it than the first day Jackson had told him. After all, he’s only thirteen.

More than any physics textbook could, Jackson has taught Jaebum about the relativity of time. Now, the principle that time passes fast when one is doing something one likes and slowly when one is doing something one doesn’t finally makes sense to him. Because when Jaebum is with Jackson, the hours seem to fly by, racing past in idle chatting and playful banter. Time seems to expand when he’s with Jackson – although throughout the years, Jaebum can count the number of hours he’s spent with Jackson on one hand, these hours seem to magnify infinitely, every minute and every second so precious and treasured, etched into his mind that they encompass a life. When Jackson is not around, the minutes seem to drag by interminably, the hands of the clock crawling like a snail. Jaebum thinks that Jackson might not only have the power to travel through time, but to stop it too. Because when they are together, time freezes, and every time Jackson leaves, Jaebum feels like a tiny lifetime has passed.

 

**14, 31**

Jaebum doesn’t tell anybody about Jackson, not even his parents or his best friend Jinyoung who he has no secrets from. Jackson hadn’t sworn him to secrecy, but Jaebum knew that was because Jackson trusted him unconditionally, and it made him swell with importance. Whatever happened, Jaebum would never do anything to jeopardize Jackson’s safety or make his flights through time even more fraught with peril.

When Jaebum pushes open the door of his bedroom one day after school, he nearly screams to see Jackson sitting on his bed looking more than ten years younger than the last time they met and dressed in a ridiculous white tuxedo, praying fervently with his head between his knees.

Jackson looks up, panic flashing across his eyes as he hisses, “Shhh.” He motions for Jaebum to close the door, and finally heaves a sigh of relief when he does. Jackson is pasty and sweating profusely in the tightly-buttoned suit, and an unreadable look crosses his eyes as Jaebum sidles closer warily.

"H-how old are you?” he rasps, and clears his throat.

Jackson smiles lopsidedly, one end of his lips tugging up. “Thirty-one."

Jaebum inhales softly. Of course, he had known that Jackson had been young once, but he had never imagined how... how _handsome_ he was when he was young. He had never expected that he would be able to see a younger Jackson than the sweet, harmless elderly man he was accustomed to. Because at thirty-one, Jackson is dangerously good-looking, his eyes still unlined and face smooth, creamy pale skin flushed intoxicatingly and eyes feverishly bright with an inexplicable excitement. But he doesn’t forget to always take care of Jaebum’s comfort first as he pats the bed beside him and Jaebum sighs and settles down a careful distance away, hoping the hammering of his heart isn’t as deafening to Jackson as it is to him.

"Sorry, I’m kind of freaking out right now,” Jackson explains sheepishly when Jaebum raises an eyebrow.

"What’s with the suit?” Jaebum deadpans, and nearly chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken when Jackson replies with a shaky grin, “I’m getting married."

"Married?” Jaebum echoes, stupefied. “To who?” The words slip unconsciously from his mouth, his brain still unable to register the fact that Jackson – Jackson who is suddenly not the kindly old man that Jaebum has always known but unimaginably young, young and thrillingly beautiful – _Jackson_ is getting married.

Of course he is. Why would such a warm-hearted, attractive person be short of admirers? Jaebum had always known that Jackson had a whole life of his own in his time, that Jackson had a whole other life that Jaebum didn’t know a thing about, that he had no part in. Naturally, Jackson would have a job and a pretty girlfriend too, like any other adult man. And now, naturally, he was getting married. There is nothing surprising about it, and yet Jaebum wonders what is this piercing knifelike pain between his ribs.

Jackson smiles enigmatically, but Jaebum doesn’t know why he sees a tinge of sorrow. “Sorry, I can’t tell you."

"Whatever,” Jaebum mutters stonily, and shifts away from him on the bed, unable to understand the feeling of intense loss plunging through him. He had almost forgotten that Jackson was no one to him – not his friend, family, or loved one. He was merely an apparition visible only to Jaebum, and only once a year. Theirs was a relationship that could never see the light of day, that existed only in the realm of dreamland.

But Jaebum doesn’t know what is this bitter feeling in the back of his throat driving him as he tugs roughly at Jackson’s sleeve. “Teach me Chinese,” he orders, and Jackson blanches. “Now?"

Jaebum narrows his eyes at Jackson, not expecting him to lower his eyelashes meekly and comply obediently. Jaebum rummages in his messy room for his Chinese textbook and curls up in Jackson’s lap, leaning against his body like a chair although he knows that he’s grown too heavy and big and is squashing Jackson. Jaebum wishes he could ground Jackson to this world so easily, prevent him from leaving by physical force. But he knows that the only one who holds real power here is time, and they are but pawns being tossed in its merciless hands. He knows that when the moment comes for Jackson to leave, he will be transported back to his original life, back to his wedding to someone who isn’t Jaebum, can’t be Jaebum. The thought stops Jaebum cold because why would he even think of marrying Jackson? Even if they were presumably the same age in Jackson’s world, they were both male. Up until today, Jaebum had never even seen Jackson as anyone but an old man, for god’s sake.

Jackson pinches his cheek. “Pay attention,” he chides, and Jaebum quickly snaps back to earth.

" _Wo ai ni_ ,” Jackson is saying, and Jaebum repeats it mindlessly, confused by how Jackson’s entire body stiffens against his at the words, his eyes stricken as they lock with Jaebum’s, like Jaebum has just said something momentous, devastating.

"What does it mean?” Jaebum gulps, but feels the warmth of Jackson’s body fading intangibly against his, the textbook slipping from his fingers until finally all that Jaebum is sitting next to is empty, cold air.

He picks up the book, paging frantically through it as he painstakingly tries to locate the three words. When he finds them, the Korean characters beside them make the textbook slip soundlessly out of his hands this time. _I love you_.

 

**15, 29**

Jaebum has a growth spurt between the ages of fourteen and fifteen, and when he’s walking across the courtyard after school one afternoon he frowns to see a commotion at the gates.

"Jaebum-ah, your hyung is so hot!” Jimin gushes as she flounces past him with her gaggle of girlfriends and Jaebum’s heart lurches. He doesn’t have an older brother.

Jaebum’s footfalls quicken in trepidation as they near the school gates, his stomach plummeting when he hears a familiar, distinctive deep voice, grandstanding in fluent Korean to a handful of adoring girls.

Jaebum runs a nervous, clammy palm through his hair, wetting his lips and untucking his uniform shirt casually as he steps out of the gate, and then he is looking down at Jackson in surprise, towering over him as Jackson squints up at him uncertainly. “Jaebum?” he says in disbelief.

Not only is Jackson shorter than him now, he’s also younger than Jaebum has ever seen him, his smile easy and careless, so beautiful it almost hurts to look at. Instead of the usual sensible, unremarkable clothes he’s worn on previous occasions, today Jackson is dressed in a snapback, baseball jersey and skinny jeans, looking as much as a teenager as Jaebum.

But Jackson obnoxiously reminds him that he is nearly twice Jaebum’s age, to Jaebum’s chagrin. He feels like Jackson is saying it more to remind himself, because he’s been sneaking wary glances at Jaebum since they left school to walk downtown to the arcade where Jackson promised to treat Jaebum to spicy rice cakes, face falling when Jaebum bluntly asked if he had money.

To his surprise, Jackson digs into his pocket and triumphantly fishes out a few dog-eared won. Jaebum’s mind races as he considers the implications of this. Does this mean that at the age of twenty-nine, Jackson is in Korea? When did he travel there from Hong Kong, and was it a permanent move? Most importantly, was Jaebum still in the picture?

A million questions bubble up impatiently on Jaebum’s tongue, but he knows that if he voices them out Jackson will only deflect them deftly, changing the subject and gently but firmly refusing to divulge any information about the future, laughing when Jaebum begs, growing cool if he loses his temper. “I can’t mess with history or influence your free will,” Jackson says resolutely when Jaebum insists, “I need to know."

"Why do you keep looking at me?” Jaebum eventually blurts out, more irritated with his traitorous heart for flipping and flopping in his chest like a fish out of water than Jackson’s timid lash-veiled glances.

Jackson swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Sorry,” he laughs, and suddenly Jaebum is also annoyed with the way Jackson is always apologizing for everything, like he has committed some unpardonable wrong towards Jaebum, like Jaebum is a _stranger_ he has to stand at courtesy with.

"It’s just that... I’ve never seen you this young,” Jackson is saying. “Fifteen,” he mutters under his breath, then lets out a low whistle. “Wow."

"I’ve never seen you this short,” Jaebum retorts sarcastically, which earns him a slug on the arm. “Watch it,” Jackson warns.

"How’s the air down there?” Jaebum sniggers, and Jackson snarls, dropping his composed adult demeanor. “Im Jaebum, get back here!” he yells, chasing Jaebum down the street like a little kid.

 

**16, 15**

"My God,” Jaebum murmurs hushedly when he gets within recognizing distance of the other boy on the street, and can make out his features. From afar, there was already something uncanny about him, but Jaebum hadn’t dared to believe something so impossible, hadn’t allowed himself to hope.

Jackson’s hair is shaggy, falling into his eyes and he’s dressed in a school uniform of white collared shirt and navy pants, similar to his, his top button undone and the noose of a striped tie loosened around his neck. A name tag with Chinese characters is pinned to his breast pocket.

Jackson takes a few steps back, looking overwhelmed as Jaebum sprints towards him. There’s an uncertainty in his eyes that Jaebum hasn’t seen before, a flicker of fear. Jackson is always so confident and assured, never revealing a hint of the displacement and whiplash he must be feeling at being thrown abruptly into a different time, but this Jackson is so obviously bewildered, so achingly young that it goes straight past Jaebum’s defences.

"J-jaebum-hyung?” Jackson’s voice is shaky, the word catching in his throat with disbelief. “Is that you?” His eyes search Jaebum’s desperately and he reaches out a trembling hand as if to touch Jaebum’s face, but pulls away quickly.

Jaebum nods, his own throat closing. He still hasn’t figure out how the mechanics of time travel works, but deduces swiftly that Jackson must not have met his younger self before he was a teenager, and is relieved that Jackson seems to have met his older self already. They’ve always been able to slip back relatively easily into an effortless tandem every time they met, no matter how jarring the disparities between their prior memories and history, catching up each other on the empty spaces. But this time, both of them are equally young, equally clueless and there is no one to take charge and be the mature one here, the one who prevents the other from falling apart at the sheer magnitude of this incredible phenomenon they are caught in. Till this day, Jackson was always the one who took care of him, whose undimmable smile made Jaebum feel that everything was alright, no matter how dire the circumstances seemed. It’s kind of unsettling seeing Jackson just as vulnerable and lost as he feels, but Jaebum realizes that this time, he will have to take charge.

He notices that Jackson is shivering in the wintry draft, that his uniform shirt is flimsy and thin, almost translucent, and guesses that it must be summer in Hong Kong. Jaebum strips off his own school blazer and drapes it over Jackson’s shoulders, and unwraps his scarf, winding it around Jackson’s neck until the only things visible above the fraying wool are Jackson’s curious, bright eyes.

"Let’s go,” Jaebum says softly, and takes Jackson’s hand wordlessly. Jackson’s hand is smaller than Jaebum remembers, soft and toasty, trusting and unresisting as it curls back around Jaebum’s with an impossible familiarity. As they walk home, the chilly November winds rip unforgivingly through the air, but Jaebum can’t even feel anything except the heat radiating from Jackson’s skin, spreading like electricity up the nerve endings of his arm.

"Where are you coming from?” Jaebum demands the moment they are sequestered in his room and Jackson is sitting on the bed, looking oddly fragile and small amidst the ocean of sheets, unwrapping Jaebum’s scarf from around his neck.

"2010,” Jackson says, naming the year Jaebum is in, and Jaebum gasps. He hadn’t known it was possible for Jackson to travel to a different place in his time. Then Jackson says, “September,” and his heart plummets in relief.

"Of course it’s impossible.” Jackson laughs out loud when Jaebum tells him that for the first time, they’re finally in the same universe. “I’m a time traveller, not God. I can’t split myself in two.” He rolls his eyes and Jaebum laughs too, breaking the ice. It’s still the same Jackson, with his sharp tongue and infectious laugh, although his shoulders are narrower than Jaebum has ever seen them, his frame pubescent and slight and his hair mussed and windswept hopelessly.

"Were you in school?” Jaebum gestures to Jackson’s attire, and Jackson groans. “Right in the middle of biology class. It’s cool, though. I’m sitting in the last row, and Mark’s got my back."

 _Mark._ It’s a name that Jackson has mentioned on a few occasions, and Jaebum had gathered that he’s a friend of Jackson’s. But he never knew that he was Jackson’s high school classmate, that he had had Jackson for so many years, lived in the same world, the same time. Jaebum feels a startlingly piercing knife of jealousy.

"Who’s Mark?” he asks casually, and Jackson replies easily, “My best friend."

It’s the smile on Jackson’s face as he says the words that does Jaebum in – a smile he hasn’t seen before, so boyishly wide that it makes Jackson’s eyes crinkle into crescents. It’s a smile that makes him look about ten years old, such a beautiful, mischievous smile that Jaebum is suddenly seething with an inexplicable unfairness that it isn’t directed at him.

"Your best friend, huh?” he repeats, voice low, and Jaebum doesn’t recognize the mocking note in his voice. Jackson hears it too, eyes widening as Jaebum crosses the room in two strides and settles down beside him, the bed dipping as he squeezes Jackson against the wall.

"Did you ever – with him –” Jaebum chokes out, and Jackson looks confused.

Abruptly, Jaebum reaches out to brush Jackson’s lips with his fingertips, and Jackson jumps and jerks away, shocked. “Did you ever let him...” Jaebum spits out, and his heart sinks like a stone when Jackson doesn’t meet his eyes.

"It was just once!” Jackson protests, looking stricken as Jaebum takes his chin roughly and lifts his face up. He squirms away, flushed with guilt, but Jaebum clambers over him, bracing his arms on the bed and trapping Jackson between them, so close that their bangs catch together with static.

"It was a mistake,” Jackson continues babbling. “I hadn’t met you yet, _this_ you, and I didn’t know you were so – so – God, what am I saying?” Jackson looks close to tears, precariously pale, and Jaebum is afraid he’s slipping. He should know better than to be so careless, than to agitate Jackson when he’s so inexperienced and obviously not in control of his impulses yet.

Jackson raises glimmering orbs to his. “Can you forgive me?"

It’s not that Jaebum can’t forgive Jackson, because Jaebum will forgive Jackson for anything he says or does, had already forgiven him the moment the words left his mouth. It’s just that he can’t control how his vision flashes white hot at the thought of another boy, this _Mark_ , noticing the way Jackson’s eyes sparkle like shards of rainbow glass and his lithe pantherlike grace, kissing those lips that look so soft, putting his hands on Jackson’s wiry, supple body -

"Hyung,” Jackson says huskily, and his voice licks through Jaebum’s veins, igniting his blood like wildfire. Jaebum is bewildered by the emotions that are rising up uncontrollably within him. His feelings towards Jackson had always been placid, peaceful warm ones of security and friendship. Jaebum had always looked forward to Jackson’s visits. But somewhere along the way, his heart had started speeding up in anticipation, his palms cold and clammy in a way that was undeniably no longer platonic.

When had respect and admiration turned into animal attraction? He had never thought Jackson could make him feel such passion and intensity, and the way heat is pooling in his stomach, making his cock twitch hungrily as Jackson’s tongue slips out to lick his dry lips is completely unfamiliar to Jaebum. Jaebum doesn’t know how to handle this, doesn’t know how to handle Jackson who is suddenly dangerous and terrifying, a beautiful grenade ticking down in Jaebum’s shaking hands. It’s wrong, sacrilegious, and Jaebum struggles to reconcile this gorgeous boy lying beneath him to the fatherly figure who has wisely guided and counselled Jaebum all his life.

He sees the conflict in Jackson’s eyes too, the way he’s reeling with shock at these new and unexpected emotions. Jaebum has always loved the way Jackson is so transparent, every single thought he’s feeling playing across his expressive eyes like an open book. He loves the way Jackson is like spun silk; as lovely and seemingly fragile but actually unbreakably strong. He loves the way Jackson is so vibrant and captivating and intense, like a supernova explosion Jaebum wants to capture and possess with his own bare hands. He loves _Jackson_.

"I can’t get you out of my mind,” Jaebum whispers, pained. “When I’m eating, sleeping, breathing – you’re all I think about."

The smile that breaks across Jackson’s face is blinding, lighting it up like the sun. Jaebum hates that cocky grin, how Jackson just waltzes into his life every time, sweeping through it like a hurricane and leaving Jaebum wrecked and gasping. He curls his fingers into the fabric of Jackson’s collar, buttons popping as he rips it open aggressively to reveal the expanse of porcelain white skin at Jackson’s delicately wrought collarbones. “Take responsibility,” Jaebum says, breathing heavily.

Jackson answers by cupping a strong hand on the nape of Jaebum’s neck and hauling him down for a clumsy and wet but enthusiastic kiss, their teeth knocking and noses bumping awkwardly at first but finally fitting together so perfectly that it feels like worlds colliding on their axis and shifting into place. Jackson spreads his legs and wraps them around Jaebum’s waist, and when Jaebum settles between them he can feel how hard Jackson is and how much he wants Jaebum, exactly as much as Jaebum wants him.

 

"I can not believe this,” Jackson says, voice raw and post-coital as he runs tapered fingers through the strands of Jaebum’s hair. “The last time I saw you, you were a grandpa. Now you’re a teenage boy with dyed blond hair fucking me.” He groans. “This is so fucked up. How am I going to face you the next time?"

Jaebum laughs, prying Jackson’s hands away from his face. “Maybe give me a blow job?” he tries hopefully, and ducks away from Jackson’s outraged fists.

 

Jaebum tries to pretend he knows what he’s doing, but in reality he doesn’t any more than Jackson. They’re just teenage boys, full of testosterone and hormones, thinking with their dicks before their brain. It’s easy to get caught up in the heady sensation of meeting at the same age for the first time and mistake it for romance, but the only thing Jaebum knows for sure is that what he feels for Jackson is not a fluke. It might have seemed hasty, but Jaebum knows that it was the right decision. Because they are preternaturally engaged in a losing battle against time, snatching stolen moments from it whenever they can. Even if they never meet again; even if they never meet in the capacity to be able to touch each other physically again, Jaebum will never forget the subliminal sensation of Jackson’s bare body curled up in his arms, the temperature emanating from his skin lighting up every cell of Jaebum’s body like a scorching fire.

 

**17, 32**

The moment Jackson materializes in Jaebum’s room, he immediately senses that something is wrong. Jaebum has no time to even wipe a rough hand over his damp face or attempt to cover his red eyes and spiky lashes, before Jackson is striding up, eyes tight with concern.

"What’s wrong? Did something happen at school?"

Jaebum jerks away. Jackson is dressed in a beige cashmere sweater, looking adult and infuriatingly beautiful and unattainable. He sees the tremor of Jackson’s fingers before he pulls the sleeves over his wrists to hide them and knows that their time is limited, that he should reassure Jackson before he is snatched away. But Jaebum is tired of being selfless and self-sacrificing, tired of putting on a brave face and pretending that it doesn’t hurt like hell every time Jackson is torn away from him. He’s only seventeen, seventeen and in love with a person who doesn’t exist in his life yet, in love with _Jackson_ , and everything is too unfair.

The past year has been a tumultuous one. Jaebum has spent his time alternating between wishing passionately to see the teenage Jackson again and hoping that if he does appear, it will be after fifteen. Because Jaebum doesn’t think he can handle meeting an innocent, oblivious Jackson, still blissfully unaware of his feelings and the enormous development in their relationship that has taken place. And then he feels like an idiot, because who else has to worry that their boyfriend has forgotten that they’ve had sex, besides really old people with Alzheimer’s or senile dementia who wouldn’t even be having sex in the first place? Thinking of Jackson as his boyfriend sends a delicious chill down Jaebum’s spine, and then he feels like a moron again for getting all worked up because Jackson doesn’t even exist in his world, technically. He’s like one of those losers with imaginary girlfriends.

"Jaebum,” Jackson pleads now, for once dropping the - _hyung_ , and it oddly comforts Jaebum how Jackson somehow knows that this time, he has to be the patient one here because Jaebum is being petulant.

Jaebum gives in too late, finally turning back to face Jackson as the warmth of his fingertips disappears from Jaebum’s face, the words _I missed you_ falling into empty air, unheard.

 

**18, 33**

It’s been exactly three-hundred and sixty-five days, according to the countdown on his calendar, and Jaebum thinks it’s safe to say that Jackson is avoiding him. He has never stayed out of Jaebum’s life for so long before, and Jaebum feels a sinking dread in the pit of his stomach and again regrets the cold shoulder he had given Jackson. Why had he tried to act tough, to act like he didn’t want to see Jackson when he was burning for his touch? But there was once – Jaebum has an inexplicable conviction that Jackson had appeared near him once a few months ago, but hidden himself from Jaebum. Jaebum has no proof of this except that he seems to have developed a Jackson radar, detecting his presence like gravity pulling matter to the earth, like a sunflower listing towards the sun. He had clenched his fists and waited for Jackson to appear, laughing and teasing Jaebum, in the end giving up and calling out desperately into thin air, “Jackson! Jackson-ah!"

A few birds nearby took flight, and a few passersby stared at him and walked away quickly, but Jackson didn’t come out.

 

**19, 33**

The next time he senses the unmistakable feeling of Jackson’s presence, Jaebum thinks grimly, _desperate times call for desperate measures_ , and kicks into the plan he had meticulously calculated down to the smallest detail. He knows he has to act fast, before Jackson drifts away, but in the end, nothing works the way he predicted. There are no cars on the nearby street, the only vehicle chugging slowly down the sunny afternoon asphalt a big, worn bus.

Jaebum swears and throws himself in front of it anyway. Agreeably, the driver leans loudly on his horn and slams on the brakes. The bus screeches to a halt just as a blurred figure streaks across the street and pushes Jaebum away, landing hard on him as Jaebum sprawls backwards, scraping his elbows on the granite.

Jaebum looks up, dazed, to see that his plan has worked as expected, and Jackson is leaning over him, his eyes dark with worry and his hands running urgently down Jaebum’s body. “Are you okay?"

Jaebum nods, his throat tightening with relief, and Jackson swivels around to glare at the bus driver lividly. He flips him off, giving him a piece of his mind about assholes who didn’t look out for pedestrians while driving. The driver bristles indignantly. “What the hell? That brat just dashed out –"

Jackson silences him with one withering glance and turns back to help Jaebum to his feet, fussing over him and practically carrying him all the way home.

"Why did you do that?” Jackson says angrily the moment they get back to his room. “Don’t think I don’t know that it was your fault. I was watching the whole time."

" _The whole time?_ ” Jaebum drawls, throwing his words back at him, and Jackson blushes hotly.

Jaebum relents. His motive was to lure Jackson back, not to humiliate him. “I wanted to make you come out,” he admits honestly.

Jackson’s mouth falls open. “How did you know –"

"I could feel you,” Jaebum says quietly. “You’re so obvious."

Jackson throws a pillow at him, looking crestfallen. “Shut up."

Jaebum laughs, catching it. “How many times did I miss?” he can’t help asking.

Jackson’s eyes are soft and questioning as they look up at him. “Only once,” he assures. “As far as I know."

"I was a fool,” Jaebum says harshly, and Jackson bites back a smile. “My fool,” he agrees.

 

"Where are you coming from?” Jaebum asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes later as they lie in his bed, bracing himself over Jackson and smoothing the matted hair away from his face. “Do they have robot computers yet?” he muses, when what he really means is, _Do you still feel the same?_

"You know I can’t tell you,” Jackson laughs, eyes on his as he brushes Jaebum’s fingers with his lips. _As ever_.

 

**20, 34**

When he walks into Jackson in the dusty stacks of his university library, Jaebum drops his books. Jackson is dressed in a dark green shirt with a logo that reads _Choi Music_ emblazoned across the breast pocket and coughing a little, waving away dust particles from the stack of books that he knocked off the shelf when he landed.

"Is that where you’re working?” Jaebum blurts out, and Jackson hurriedly slaps a sheepish hand over the uniform. Jaebum shakes his head and picks up his textbooks. “Come on.” He inclines his head, and Jackson trails after him obediently.

The moment they get back to Jaebum’s cramped dorm room and confirm that his roommate is out, Jaebum locks the door and slams Jackson against it hard. Jackson licks into his mouth with equal intensity and a missing that rivals his own. Jaebum struggles to pull off Jackson’s shirt and Jackson fumbles with his belt, their mouths still latched on to each other’s as they stumble towards the bed and fall onto it, Jaebum wrestling Jackson beneath him.

 

"How old are you?” Jaebum whispers beside Jackson’s ear when they are lying spent in his tiny, rickety bed, legs tangled together and sheets sweaty. It’s the first time he’s neglected to ask this question immediately after Jackson arrived, but he was just too swept away by the lust that overtook him. Or maybe Jaebum was dreading hearing the answer.

Because Jackson is significantly older than the last time he saw him – older than the day he got married. Jaebum hasn’t allowed himself to think about this fact since sixteen, has been in denial about the fact that Jackson is a married man. Even though he knows that he has to be fair, that Jackson is allowed a life of his own that doesn’t involve Jaebum, it’s just so, so hard to face the knowledge that the Jackson lying in Jaebum’s arms and smiling drowsily up at him, his body slick against Jaebum’s, slick with Jaebum’s cum, belongs to another person. Actually, it feels like a piece of Jaebum’s heart is being torn out of him.

Of course, Jaebum had never forgotten that day at fourteen when Jackson had told him he was marrying someone else. Because of course it had to be someone else, right? Jackson – knee-bucklingly gorgeous and unattainable Jackson Wang couldn’t be marrying _Jaebum_. If he had, he would’ve told Jaebum a long time ago. Jackson wouldn’t do that to him, wouldn’t make Jaebum go through the heartache and heartbreak of unrequited love.

Jaebum had thought Jackson wasn’t that kind of person. But now, he thinks he isn’t so sure anymore. Because if Jackson is married to someone else, what is he doing sleeping with Jaebum? Even though it’s in a different time, Jackson’s feelings shouldn’t have changed. Is this just a fling for him, something he doesn’t have to be responsible for because he’s only visiting? Is he just playing with Jaebum? The thought makes a bitter coil of anger surge in Jaebum’s stomach, but he struggles to tamp it down. He doesn’t want to ruin a single precious minute of Jackson’s short-lived visits with negative emotions.

But when Jackson quietly answers, “Thirty-four,” Jaebum’s heart still plummets. His next words strike Jaebum like blows. “We’re naming the kids. What do you suggest?"

It’s the easy, natural way he says _We_ that kills Jaebum, that tells him more than anything how happy Jackson is with his wife, lover, whoever the fuck it is who has the unbelievable luck of being married to Jackson Wang. Technically, We might also refer to Jackson and himself, but Jaebum tells himself not to be stupid before he can go down that train of thought. Jackson might be a prankster, but he wouldn’t be so twisted to pull such a sick prank on Jaebum.

At this point, Jaebum feels downright nauseous, pulling away from under Jackson’s heavy body to turn to face the wall so that Jackson can’t see any of the thoughts playing across his face. Jaebum racks his brain for the stupidest name he can think of. “Bambam,” he says viciously, and shivers as he feels a draft attacking his bare back.

When he turns around to see only tangled linen and empty space, without a trace, Jackson is already gone.

 

**20, 30**

When Jaebum sees Jackson the second time that year, he thinks it’s a figment of his imagination conjured up by his alcohol-addled brain. After all, Jaebum has been spending the past few months after Jackson’s last visit more drunk than sober. Even Jinyoung had given up on advising him, disgusted. Maybe Jackson had somehow sensed that he needed help and appeared in Jaebum’s times of need like he always did – but that’s impossible. Jaebum laughs bitterly. Even if he knew and could control his travelling, Jackson wouldn’t care. He had never cared about Jaebum the way Jaebum cared about him.

But – twice in a year. Even in the haze of alcohol, Jaebum realizes what a miracle that is. They’ve never met with such frequency before. Jaebum wonders what this means, if it’s just a one-time fluke or if Jackson will be appearing in his life more often in future. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to deal with his heart breaking all over again every time.

Jackson walks right up, striding through the bar towards where Jaebum is blearily squinting at him and snatches the half-empty beer bottle from Jaebum’s hand. “Im Jaebum, what are you doing to yourself?” Jackson curses, his furious face swimming in Jaebum’s vision.

"You need to wake up,” Jackson says, slapping his face lightly with his hands the moment they enter Jaebum’s dorm room. The place is a shithole, his roommate getting steadily more and more fed up with how he stank up the room with cheap liquor and unwashed clothes and finally moved out. Jaebum grabs Jackson’s hands with both of his own and doesn’t let go even when he struggles. “How old are you?” he demands, a glimmer of hope lighting up in him when Jackson replies reluctantly, “Thirty."

So _this_ Jackson isn’t married yet. Jaebum isn’t sure what he’s doing as he pushes Jackson backward onto the bed and straddles him, stripping off his shirt and unzipping his fly, sliding an insolent hand up Jackson’s stomach. All he’s sure of is that this might be his last chance to make Jackson his, to possess him and brand him with painful marks sucked into the delicate skin of his neck and fingers pressed into his hipbones hard enough to leave purplish blue.

Jaebum knows that it’s mean and underhanded, and not only that, he’s coming perilously close to altering the course of history. He had asked Jackson if he had tried before, but Jackson had only shaken his head solemnly. “I don’t dare to. What if it changed the trajectories of our lives forever? What if we never met?” he had breathed, fingers fisting helplessly in Jaebum’s shirt at the thought. But he can’t help it because the thought of a whole life ahead of him waking up every morning to the knowledge that Jackson belongs to somebody else is too bleak for Jaebum to bear. He has no other alternative.

So Jaebum takes a deep breath and leans over Jackson, pinning his gaze with his. “Jackson-ah,” he says, words hoarse and foolishly brave with alcohol. “Will you marry me?"

 

It's spontaneous and unplanned, and Jaebum almost regrets the question the moment it leaves his mouth. He has no ring or anything to offer Jackson, who he is a decade younger than and hopelessly inferior to. His eyes are dull and bloodshot and nowhere as near as expressive as Jackson’s, which are shining like glass, glittering and overflowing with tears that Jaebum anxiously wipes away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s wrong?” he panics, running worried eyes over Jackson’s body. “Did I hurt you anywhere?"

"No,” Jackson says, hitting him lightly, and his smile catches Jaebum’s breath in his throat. “It’s just... I thought you’d never ask."

Jaebum is so confused right now, but the happiness overwhelms everything. He can’t believe that Jackson agreed, that he had been waiting for Jaebum to ask. Did that mean – could that possibly mean that the person Jackson had said he was marrying was... _Jaebum_?

Jaebum doesn’t dare to broach the question, afraid of the answer, but even more afraid of the enormity of what they are attempting to challenge. Who was he to think that he could take time into his own hands and determine the course of history, change their fate? He knew what he was in for when he had fallen in love with Jackson. Like time, Jackson was unpredictable, volatile and flighty, unable to pin down.

They look at each other, so many unspoken questions and answers in their eyes, and Jackson eventually says softly, “Just be patient a bit more, okay? Next year – that’s when it all happens."

"W-what happens?” Jaebum swallows, his throat so dry he can barely speak.

Jackson smiles cryptically. “It’s the year we meet,” he says, squeezing Jaebum’s arm. “All four of us: you, me, Mark and Jinyoung. It’s when it all begins."

"H-how –” Jaebum stutters lamely, unable to process this information. Mark and Jackson are coming to Korea? And Jackson knows Jinyoung?

Jackson laughs breathlessly. “The day after I met you at fifteen, I dropped everything and started working hard towards coming here. It took me three years to convince Mark to go to Korea for university after high school."

Jaebum gapes at him, struggling to absorb the revelation that Jackson had wanted so badly and worked so hard to meet him, crossing continents and oceans the way he had crossed time. He had done so much for Jaebum, more than Jaebum had ever done for him.

"Oops,” Jackson says, biting his lip and raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Should I not have said that?"

His irresistible, crooked smile makes Jaebum laugh out loud. “I guess we’re going to get divine punishment then. But for you...” he caresses Jackson’s cheek, watching the way a blush blooms beneath his fingertips. “It’ll be worth it."

 

**21, 20**

When Jaebum sees Jackson in the batch of freshmen entering their university for orientation, he doesn’t have to disguise the way his eyes widen and his knees grow weak with shock. Because seeing Jackson out of the orbit of time for the first time is completely mind-blowing, every bit as heart-stopping as the first day. There’s a solidity to Jackson, an opacity that is different from his time-travelling self, which had always felt too transient, too easily crushed in Jaebum’s arms.

Jaebum can’t take his eyes off Jackson as he strides across the room confidently, his arrogant swagger capturing the gaze of everyone he passes. He is flanked by a spacy-looking pretty boy, who gets an equal amount of attention to him but in contrast looks utterly unaware of it.

Jinyoung nudges Jaebum, a familiar predatory look on his face that makes Jaebum’s stomach clench uncomfortably. “Who’s _that_?” he swoons breathily.

"Jackson Wang.” Jackson sticks out a hand as he walks up, keeping his eyes on Jaebum's as he takes it, swallowing. Jackson’s hand is warm and strong, callused, but his dark eyes have none of the hardness of his handshake and every bit of the softness Jaebum remembers. He tries to control his expression, but neither Jinyoung nor Jackson’s friend (who will later introduce himself as the infamous Mark) notice, too busy mooning at each other with goo-goo eyes.

 

Jaebum pulls some strings, namely paying off his roommate with an exorbitant sum to move to Jackson’s room so Jackson can move in with Jaebum. So they become roommates, sharing a cramped, dreary shoebox that smells like dirty socks and has textbooks strewn all over the floor, but because Jackson is there, it’s heaven.

Jaebum can’t believe that after so many years of waiting and longing, they can finally love each other openly, with the acknowledgement of others and blessings of their friends. He wants to be around Jackson as much as he can so he can take care of Jackson when he comes back from his trips, and help to keep Jackson’s secret. Jackson is always so brickheaded and wilful, wanting to take on everything himself, but Jaebum knows that Jackson is more vulnerable than he lets on.

By this time, they’ve started to learn to get used to Jackson’s ability, the way families of handicapped people get used to their disability, shaping and building their lives around it the best they can. The years have taught Jaebum how to be as familiar with the signs of impending travel as Jackson is: when Jackson abruptly turns ashen and jittery and starts shaking and sweating uncontrollably. They’ve realized early on that they can’t control it, but can do their best to nurture an environment that is conducive to discouraging it. When Jackson feels calm, peaceful and safe, he’s less likely to travel. Agitation, alcohol or other stimulants and sudden mood swings seem to aggravate it, the last of which Jackson finds it hard to refrain from with his natural quick temperament.

 

"What does it feel like?” Jaebum asks one day, wondering why such an important question had taken him so many years to ask. It feels like something he should have asked Jackson at the start, but the years had flown by so unnoticeably, and he had been so swept up in Jackson that it hadn’t occurred to him.

Jackson laughs, brow creasing as he tries to find the words to describe it. “It’s... amazing,” he finally says, shaking his head in wonder. “It feels like... like exploding into a million tiny particles and freefalling through the milky way, then being joined back together again."

Jaebum considers this thoughtfully and winces. “Sounds painful."

Jackson smiles wistfully. “It’s an indescribable experience. I wish I could take you with me."

Jaebum smirks. “Better than kissing me?” he teases, and Jackson bursts out laughing.

"Well, maybe not,” he concedes, winking.

 

**22, 21**

Jackson had waxed lyrical about the thrills of time-travelling, but he had conveniently left out the negative aspects. Now that they are living together, Jaebum witnesses the effects travelling wrecks on Jackson, and sees the ugly side that he had neglected to mention clearer than he ever has. Because Jackson isn’t superhuman. He is merely mortal, and wasn’t designed to contain such a superpower. Time travelling is a power that is too enormous and overwhelming for Jackson, for anybody. Jaebum wonders who was the one who had decided to place such a weighty burden on Jackson’s narrow shoulders.

Jaebum helps Jackson into bed after a frat party where Jinyoung had taken Jackson and Mark without his knowledge. When he arrives there, Jackson is already intoxicated and Jaebum is furious, turning on Mark. “Why didn’t you stop him?” he growls, and Jinyoung stands up unsteadily and shields Mark with his body, offering him a beer. “Come on, lighten up a little!” he giggles. “You’re such a stick-in-the-mud."

Jaebum pushes him away, disgusted, and grabs Jackson below the arms and drags him staggering back to the dorm. When he heaves Jackson onto the bed, he’s already shuddering helplessly, teeth chattering. Jaebum quickly gets in beside him and pulls two layers of blankets up around them, pressing his frame against Jackson’s to give him body heat.

"Hyung,” Jackson murmurs, registering him through hooded, murky eyes. “Hold me till I go.” He closes his eyes again, but not before Jaebum sees the naked fear that flits through them.

As he crushes Jackson tightly in his arms, already praying for his safe return, this might be the instant Jaebum realizes exactly how harrowing and risky time-travelling is for Jackson.

 

**23, 22**

The longer the months stretch on without Jackson time-travelling, the more hopeful Jaebum feels. Coming to Korea, to Jaebum has seemed to stabilize Jackson’s travelling for some reason, giving him roots and anchors. As the bouts between Jackson’s trips grow longer and more infrequent, they are lulled into a false sense of security. It seems almost possible that one day, Jackson will be able to stop travelling altogether.

But just as they are getting complacent, an incident happens to shake up their idyll. Jackson materializes in their room one night, hours after he disappeared and which Jaebum had lain awake for, worry eating and gnawing at him. Jackson usually manages to be quiet about his reappearances, but this time he has lost all composure, moaning and keening in pain. Jaebum scrambles out of bed and crouches beside him helplessly. “Jacks? What happened?"

Jackson cradles his leg, face paper white, and Jaebum’s heart squeezes to see blood seeping through his pants. He quickly but carefully rips Jackson’s pants down the length, inhaling sharply to see a nasty wound gushing blood at an alarming rate.

"I trespassed on private property. He had... a gun...” Jackson says between clenched teeth, and Jaebum’s mind flashes white with rage. “Who? Who did this to you?” He’s going to skin them alive, the fuckers who had dared to touch a hair on the head of his precious Jackson.

"I don’t know,” Jackson mutters, breath coming in uneven spurts. “They were speaking like, Greek or something."

"Holy crap,” Jaebum breathes. Jackson had never really told him about his travels to other countries, only mentioned them in passing, and Jaebum had no idea of the threat they genuinely posed. But he quickly snaps into action, studying Jackson’s wound but not daring to touch. “This is bad,” he says softly, not wanting to frighten him. “I think you need to go to the clinic."

"No!” Jackson says vehemently, clutching at his arm. “They’ll ask questions –"

"We have to get the bullet out,” Jaebum says grimly, and lifts Jackson up into his arms, squirming and protesting weakly. “Listen to me,” Jaebum starts, his heart stopping as he looks down to see that Jackson has lost consciousness.

 

**24, 23**

Knowing the full extent of Jackson’s risks now, Jaebum starts worrying more. Actually, he buzzes around Jackson, nagging and fretting tirelessly until Jackson loses his patience and calls him a mother hen. But Jaebum doesn’t care whether Jackson is yelling or pissed at him, as long as he’s here.

Jackson doesn’t really wear cut-off khakis and bermudas nowadays, ever since the scar from his gunshot wound and the subsequent operation healed to form an ugly brown gash. Jaebum always makes sure to lavish butterfly kisses over it, reassuring Jackson that he is still beautiful, that Jaebum will never love him any less. He is almost too paranoid nowadays, suspecting that Jackson is travelling at the slightest provocation.

They are lazing in bed one morning, late for classes and debating whether to cut them, when Jackson starts shaking in his arms. Jaebum looks down, a cold vice clamping over his heart, but it’s just Jackson rumbling with laughter, thrumming and vibrating with his usual nervous energy. Jackson is so vital and inexhaustible that it wears Jaebum out sometimes, and leaves him feeling like he’s taken one too many rollercoaster rides.

"What if –” Jaebum starts, but Jackson interrupts him with a loud sigh, knowing what he’s going to say.

Jackson’s eyes are impatient and exasperated, but his voice is soft as flannel as he brushes his knuckles across Jaebum’s face. “Hush,” he says, flashing that happy-go-lucky smile. “Don’t worry. I’m a lucky bastard."

 

**25, 24**

They move in together after Jackson graduates from university, pooling their meagre savings to rent a small but cozy apartment. Jaebum has gotten a job as a salaryman in a production company with his major in film arts, while although he could have had better prospects with his degree in music, Jackson starts work at a record store selling musical instruments, occasionally filling out for absent instructors at the studio there. But the main reason why he picked the job is that the owner Youngjae, who was a classmate in their university, doesn’t ask too many questions when Jackson abruptly has to take off in the middle of the day.

"Youngjae’s a cool dude, man,” Jackson muses one day when he comes home after work, his eyes glinting with something like respect, and Jaebum tries to keep his face smooth and expressionless. “Oh, really?” he remarks casually, taking a long swig of his champagne.

Jackson narrows his eyes at him. “Oh my god, you’re jealous, aren’t you?” he crows childishly, and Jaebum blanches. “No."

"You totally are!” Jackson trills gleefully. “Oh man, you are so cute.” Jaebum frowns menacingly at him and growls, which only makes Jackson clutch his stomach and laugh harder.

 

**27, 26**

When they go on double dates with Jinyoung and Mark (who are ones to speak since Mark has moved to Korea and gotten a job as a stunt choreographer here for Jinyoung too), they tease Jaebum and Jackson for being one of those inseparable Siamese twin couples, even after so many years. Jaebum smiles and doesn’t say anything, because they’re right. He doesn’t plan on ever letting Jackson out of his sight.

Jackson rolls his eyes. “He’s impossible to get rid off. I guess I’m saddled with him.” But he squeezes Jaebum’s knee under the table to soften the words.

Jaebum covers his hand and squeezes back. He knows how contrary Jackson is, how he will never admit it but is guilt-stricken and thinks he’s a burden to Jaebum, thinks that Jaebum deserves someone better, deserves a normal life. But what Jackson doesn’t know is that Jaebum doesn’t want normal.

He wants Jackson.

 

**32, 31**

"Holy shit,” Jaebum breathes in relief as Jackson crashes through the doors and bends over panting, an hour after he disappeared from the dressing room where they were helping each other put on their white tuxes. Jackson usually reappears at the same place he disappeared, but they’ve noticed that when he’s nervous or upset or going through any intense emotions it gets a little screwed up. Today, Jaebum hopes it’s because he’s so happy he feels like throwing up.

"I thought you were going to leave me at the altar,” Jaebum jokes, but can’t hide the edge of real alarm in his voice.

Jackson laughs breathlessly, but his eyes are serious and his voice low and steady as he vows, “Never."

"Where were you?” Jaebum can’t help sulking a little, and Jackson smirks.

"I was teaching a little brat Chinese. It’s all his fault that I’m late. He just couldn’t get one phrase right –” The rest of his sentence is muffled as Jaebum steals his lips in a brief, sloppy kiss.

" _Wo ai ni_ ,” Jaebum finishes as he breaks away, and Jackson’s face lights up in a breathtaking grin.

Jinyoung sweeps in with Mark on his heels, their expressions a study in contrasts. Mark looks unperturbed and calm as usual as he ushers Jaebum to the side door leading to the front of the chapel, while Jinyoung’s face is as pale and wan as he fixes Jackson’s bow tie distractedly and hustles him out of the one leading to the back. “Hurry, you’re late!"

Jaebum stumbles towards the podium with the box of rings in his sweaty hand and climbs unsteadily up, clearing his throat as the pastor’s disapproving eyes sweep over him. He runs anxious fingers through his hair and straightens his tie, when suddenly the heavy wooden doors creak open, pure white light flooding into the sanctuary. Jaebum turns to see Jackson tripping in, clutching a bouquet of baby’s breath and looking equally terrified out of his wits but wearing a desperately happy grin and tender pride shining fiercely from his eyes as steps down the aisle, closing the distance between them.

 

**33, 32**

Jaebum tries not to take it too personally when Jackson vanishes from his arms halfway into Sunday morning, when they are dressed in matching coffee-coloured cashmere sweaters and curled up together lazily on the couch indulging in each other and a romantic comedy.

Jackson reappears just before the closing credits, when the male and female lead are sharing a cheesy smooch. He looks slightly dishevelled but otherwise unchanged, but the look in his eyes makes Jaebum mute the TV and give him his full attention. “When?” he says simply, and Jackson chuckles wryly.

"I’m not sure. But you looked really young. Sixteen, maybe?” he estimates. “You were crying. I didn’t have enough time to find out why."

Jaebum shifts across the couch to pull his tense body into his arms and Jackson reluctantly relaxes. “I’m sure it was nothing, just teenage angst,” he reassures, stroking a hand soothingly down Jackson’s back until he feels Jackson melt against him.

"It was the first time I’ve seen you that upset,” Jackson says in a small voice, breath hot against Jaebum’s collarbone.

Jaebum sighs and racks his brain, feeling the dim stirrings of a distant memory. “Oh, _that_ time,” he laughs. Jackson looks up eagerly as he continues, “I was just... throwing a tantrum. I was seventeen and gay and in love with somebody I technically hadn’t even met yet and it was just... too much to take."

Instead of looking relieved, a stricken look chases over Jackson’s face. He pulls away from Jaebum, shrugging off Jaebum’s arms when they try to encircle him.

"You don’t deserve this.” Jackson’s voice is rough, his eyes not meeting Jaebum’s, and Jaebum’s heart drops. “You’re too good for me."

"Jackson,” Jaebum starts, unable to contain the fear and desperation in his own voice. “No, never –"

"You idiot,” Jackson says in English, but the way he caresses the word might as well have meant _darling_.

 

**34, 18**

When Jaebum returns to his office after lunch to find Jackson sitting behind his desk, in his chair, he quickly closes the door behind him and frowns. “What are you doing here? Did you play hooky again? Youngjae is going to be so pissed."

"Who’s Youngjae?” Jackson asks, and Jaebum belatedly notices that he’s dressed in a school uniform that Jaebum has seen once before, when he was sixteen, and looks visibly younger than the Jackson Jaebum had dropped off at work that morning, so obviously a different person that Jaebum wonders how he could’ve missed it.

"How – why – How old are you?” he stammers, head spinning. The deceptively angelic grin on Jackson’s face as he stands up makes Jaebum take a stuttering step back.

"Eighteen,” Jackson says, advancing. He walks right up to Jaebum, unnervingly close, and scrutinizes him with narrowed, appraising eyes. “How old are _you_? God, you’re hot,” he says, and the words go straight to Jaebum’s cock.

"Too old for you,” Jaebum says brusquely, trying to hide the way Jackson’s compliment makes him want to roll around in glee. “Even if you’re legal. You’re not lying about your age, are you?"

Jackson laughs, loud and bold in the quiet office, and Jaebum quickly clamps a hand over his mouth. “Shhh,” he whispers furiously, and Jackson glares at him. Jaebum releases his hand, and Jackson scoffs indignantly, “No. I’m graduating in a few months."

"Oh,” Jaebum says doubtfully. Jackson looks achingly young, but his hair is cut in a shorter style than at fifteen, and he does look slightly more mature, in incomprehensible ways Jaebum cannot pinpoint. His ears are newly pierced with a row of glinting silver hoops that weren’t there before and Jaebum frowns disapprovingly, feeling like a conservative parent. He’s probably too used to seeing the current, adult Jackson that he’s confused. “Okay, I’ll believe you temporarily."

"So who’s Youngjae?” Jackson presses impatiently. Jaebum gulps. He’s not as experienced at this whole keeping things a secret and not messing with history thing as Jackson is, and predictably slipped up. “No one,” he replies smoothly, the skeptical look on Jackson’s face calling out his lie.

Jackson hadn’t told him that he had travelled to Jaebum’s office at eighteen. If he had warned Jaebum, he wouldn’t be so taken by surprise now, unprepared and shaken by Jackson’s sudden arrival. He had probably done it on purpose, Jaebum rages. He had plotted with his teenage self to ambush Jaebum, corner him and make him make an irreversible mistake. Well, he wouldn’t fall into their trap.

But for all his posturing, the boy perching on Jaebum’s desk, watching him closely can’t hide his immaturity, his vulnerability. Jaebum finds it difficult to suspect or hold anything against him as he brushes snowflakes off Jackson’s hair, already melting. “Is it snowing there?"

Jackson jumps at his touch, startled, but then tentatively allows Jaebum to touch him. He reminds Jaebum of the cautious kitten he had as a child. It’s the second time Jaebum has seen Jackson so young and impressionable and he is determined not to take advantage of him and give in to his feelings the way he did the first time.

But Jackson seems to have no such qualms as his fingers close around Jaebum’s tie and he tugs Jaebum bodily forward roughly, bringing their lips within an inch of each other. Jaebum’s palms land hard on the table as he catches his balance, scattering documents.

"I’ve been waiting for three years,” Jackson swears under his breath, his lips seeking Jaebum’s desperately. Jaebum grips the edge of the table hard and tries to pull away, but Jackson’s grasp on his tie is unwavering.

Eventually, Jaebum stops struggling and succumbs to the sheer, carnal pleasure of Jackson’s lips and tongue sliding insistent and skilful against his, doing _things_ that Jaebum wonders with shock and a twinge of jealousy where and who he had learnt from. Jaebum trails his tongue down Jackson’s piercings and bites his earlobe, drawing a whimper and tells himself he’s not strong enough to resist Jackson, when in actual fact he knows that he could easily overpower Jackson in a heartbeat. It’s just that he doesn’t _want_ to. Jaebum is a coward, always letting Jackson take responsibility for the difficult actions and initiate the leaps of courage.

There is something illicit, something thrilling about kissing eighteen-year-old Jackson while his thirty-three year old self is working miles away at a record store in town, oblivious and unaware of what Jaebum is doing at this very moment. Jaebum has never been into voyeurism or weird kinks like that, but he imagines Jackson coincidentally really bunking off work and walking in to find a schoolboy with his white-socked, knobbly legs wrapped around Jaebum’s hips, panting into his mouth, which Jackson probably wouldn’t recognize as himself at first.

Would he feel the way Jaebum felt all the other times when the person he was jealous of turned out to be himself? Would he laugh and strip off his clothes, joining in? Jaebum is hauled back to earth by Jackson’s impatient hands sliding under his suit jacket, undoing the buttons of his work shirt and splaying flat against his bare chest. Jackson’s lips curl smugly at the way Jaebum’s heart speeds up erratically.

"Hey, hey,” Jaebum says sternly, sensing things slipping out of his control but trying to remain calm. “Keep it above the waist, okay?"

"What?” Jackson looks dismayed, like Jaebum has just announced the end of the world. “But what about this?” He grabs Jaebum’s hand and brings it to the tented crotch of his pants, and Jaebum hastily recoils, stung, but not before he feels the throbbing heat of Jackson’s cock through the thin fabric, not before it manages to make him just as porcelain hard.

" _Hyung_ ," Jackson rubs his body against Jaebum’s cock and whines, in that familiar tone that Jaebum knows by now is deliberate, that one Jackson knows Jaebum can never say no to. This time, he’s not getting his way.

Jaebum untangles Jackson’s interlocked arms from around his neck with difficulty, ignoring the way Jackson’s pupils are blown so wide his eyes are almost entirely black, glassy and unfocused, the way his lips are sinfully swollen and parted, awaiting Jaebum’s own. He backs away unsteadily, holding Jackson’s wrists together with one hand as with the other he strips off his tie, holding one end between his teeth as he knots the other tightly over Jackson’s wrists.

Before Jackson can struggle or say anything, Jaebum is on his knees before the desk, spreading Jackson’s thighs with his hands and lowering his mouth to Jackson’s cock. “ _Ah!_ ” Jackson gasps almost painfully as his cock hits the back of Jaebum’s throat, his hands grabbing Jaebum’s shoulders tightly for support.

Jackson’s eyes are closed in ecstasy, and Jaebum can’t stop himself from unzipping his own fly and reaching into his briefs to touch his own aching cock, pumping a rough hand over it to the rhythm of Jackson’s muffled moans and spilling over his fingers as Jackson comes down his throat crying _Jaebum-hyung_.

 

"Can we just cuddle then?” Jackson pouts later, as if he hasn’t just made Jaebum break probably ten laws, and Jaebum smiles and lifts him off the desk, cleaning him up and straightening his uniform. He doesn’t want anyone, especially Mark, seeing Jackson like this when he gets back. Even though by now he knows Mark is with Jinyoung, he doesn’t want to risk awakening old feelings.

After that, Jackson curls up in Jaebum’s lap in his chair, work forgotten, and Jaebum cards his hand through Jackson’s hair, stroking languidly until he falls asleep with a contented smile still on his face. Impulsively, Jaebum presses a chaste kiss to his damp forehead. When Jackson jerks awake, eyes anguished as he starts fading, Jaebum is still holding him.

 

**35, 34**

"I cannot believe this.” Jaebum heaves a dramatic sigh. “I was twenty. I wasn’t ready to have kids, or even imagine having a family! And I was pissed off at that time."

"Sure seemed ready to screw me and propose,” Jackson counters calmly without missing a beat. “Be a man and be responsible for your actions."

Jaebum groans. “We are _not_ naming our kid Bambam,” he says flatly.

"Come on, it’s not so bad,” Jackson coaxes. “Look, he’s so cute he’ll be able to pull it off.” He shoves the portfolio of the younger boy they are adopting from Thailand, filled with adorable pictures that they have spent all morning cooing over. He has a Thai name already, but it’s so long and difficult to pronounce that they decided to make up an easier one. “Plus, you already named the other boy."

The other boy was a few months older, and came from a Korean orphanage. He didn’t have a name, so Jaebum had picked Yugyeom. It was a name he always wanted to give his son, and he could’ve picked something equally pretty for the other boy if only Jackson weren’t so stubborn. Not for the first time, Jaebum bemoans his teenage self.

 

**36, 35**

Jackson disintegrates literally halfway through a particularly hard thrust, and Jaebum is left with an unresolved boner and a head full of worry. He knows it’s his fault, that he shouldn’t have been so rough, should’ve seen the warning signs when Jackson’s cries started sounding more agonized than pleasurable. But he had forgotten to hold back for once, and sure enough, Jackson hadn’t been able to withstand it. He was always bragging and waving away Jaebum’s fears, calling him a worrywart and whining and whimpering _faster, harder_ , pushing Jaebum to his limits. Jaebum was sure as hell not going to let him live this down when he got back.

By the time Jackson returns, still nude, Jaebum has thankfully gotten rid of his erection and is sitting in an armchair smoking a cigarette with his legs crossed and looking appropriately judgmental. But the words that come out of his mouth are not reproachful but gentle. “Are you okay?"

Jackson laughs and grabs Jaebum’s shirt, pulling it on. “Yeah, besides the fact that I’m dying of embarrassment. I think I scarred that woman for life when I appeared in her daisy fields buck naked. Luckily she fainted, or I’d have a great time explaining why my ass is leaking cum.” Jackson snickers, looking more devilish than embarrassed.

"Someone saw you?” Jaebum says sharply, raking his gaze down Jackson’s bare body. “A woman saw you?"

Jackson snorts and chortles loudly, his eyes laughing at Jaebum. “Relax, hyung. She was like, eighty."

"Ah.” Jaebum sags with relief, then studies the way Jackson looks in his shirt with interest. “She’ll deal. Now get back to bed, we’re not done yet."

 

**41, 40**

Sometimes Jaebum wakes up alone, his hand fumbling sleepily over the other half of the bed to find it empty, sheets bunched up. He tries not to let his mind wander too pessimistically as he climbs out of bed and goes to attempt the daunting task of waking up the kids, who are six years old, absolutely perfect and have too much energy for their own good.

Will he ever get used to this? Jaebum wonders as he prepares breakfast, burning the toast and overcooking the eggs. He doesn’t think so. Even after decades, it’s still as discombobulating and disorienting as the very first day. And if it’s as difficult for him as this, it must be ten times worse for Jackson.

Jaebum is brooding and pensive as he gets the boys ready for school, pulling on Bambam’s uniform carelessly until he squeaks in protest, “Appa, my shirt is inside out!"

When he looks down at Bambam’s sailor nursery uniform, it is indeed. He quickly apologizes and is putting it on straight when Jackson walks into the house, smile bright and carefree as if he’s oblivious to the fact that Jaebum has spent the whole morning agonizing over him.

"Where were you?” Jaebum snaps, the low note in his voice making Jackson stop in his tracks, eyes widening.

"Just at the market, picking up some groceries. Why?"

"Why didn’t you leave a note? Do you know how... how worried I was?” Jaebum chokes out, voice thick, and Jackson’s eyes soften as he drops the bags and swiftly crosses the room, taking Jaebum into his arms and patting his back soothingly like he’s one of the kids. “Oh, honey,” he murmurs contritely in Jaebum’s ear. “I forgot. I thought I’d be back before you woke up."

"Don’t ever do that again,” Jaebum says fiercely, wrapping his arms around Jackson so tightly he gasps for breath, and Jackson nods against his shoulder, making wordless comforting noises in Jaebum’s ear.

"Appa, daddy,” Bambam tugs on his arm as Yugyeom makes barfing faces. “We’re late for school."

"Oh, right,” Jaebum clears his throat as they sheepishly detach. Jackson is blushing in embarrassment and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, instantly dissipating his anger. But he keeps his voice gruff as he bends to help Bambam wear his bag and tie Yugyeom’s shoelaces. “I’ll drop them off at school.” He looks up at Jackson. “You coming with us?"

Jackson melts into a dazzling grin, flashing two rows of pearly white teeth. “Sure. Just let me throw the milk in the fridge."

 

Jaebum tosses the keys in the air and catches them as he leans against his car. It’s a six-seater family wagon, with enough space for the two baby seats they had needed when Bambam and Yugyeom were growing up. He looks up at the exterior of their white stucco house, sparkling proudly in the sunlight. It’s all he ever wanted – a beautiful house and two kids with Jackson. And yet, Jaebum wishes this happiness could be truly unadulterated and uninterrupted by the occasional tug of uneasiness in his stomach.

Jackson comes out of the house juggling Bambam in one arm and locking the front door behind him with the other, all the while chattering talkatively with Bambam. He takes Yugyeom’s hand easily and leads them towards the car, beaming the megawatt force of his smile on Jaebum, and Jaebum opens the door, smiling back as he heaves Bambam from Jackson’s arms and deposits him gently in the backseat.

Jaebum had expected Jackson to be a clumsy and inexperienced father, but Jackson had surprised him with how nurturing he could be, how he disciplined their children with soft words and an iron fist. But most of all, Jackson had surprised Jaebum with his capacity for warmth and gentleness, how fiercely he protected Bambam and how readily he would sacrifice his own life for Yugyeom’s in a heartbeat. Watching Jackson becoming a father, Jaebum had fallen in love all over again.

Jackson ensures that the boys’ seatbelts are properly fastened before climbing into the passenger seat beside Jaebum. He looks back dotingly and teases, “Try not to kill each other back there until we reach school, okay?” and Bambam and Yugyeom nod like little angels, but the moment Jackson turns away their squeals ring out. Jackson sighs and laughs fondly, exchanging an exasperated glance with Jaebum.

When they stop at a traffic light, Jackson makes a muffled noise and Jaebum turns in alarm to see him doubled over, threadbare shirt soaked through with sweat. Jackson looks up, a weak smile plastered on his face. “I think I’m really going this time. Can you hold down the fort?"

Jaebum nods shortly, trying to smile back, when what he really wants to say is that he can’t even hold it together for a minute when Jackson’s gone, that he can’t even hold _himself_ together. But he keeps the cheerful smile Jackson needs on his face until the seat beside him is empty and his face feels like cracking.

"Where did daddy go?” Bambam leans over the seat, baffled eyes like saucers. Jaebum gulps. “He... uhh..."

" _Pabo_!” Yugyeom raps Bambam’s head. “Daddy has a superpower. It’s _invisibility_ ,” he says proudly.

"Ah, I know!” Bambam yells. “He’s like spiderman, right?"

Jaebum shakes his head and laughs reluctantly. He can’t help wishing he could go back to the days when he was as innocent and easily accepting as them, when he still saw Jackson’s time travelling as a superpower instead of a hindrance, the days before he had fallen in love with Jackson. But then he catches sight of Bambam and Yugyeom bickering and roughousing in the rearview mirror, laughing gleefully, and thinks, _maybe not_.

 

**42, 41**

"What are you doing?” Jaebum whispers in Jackson’s ear, leaning over the back of the couch where Jackson is sitting with his eyes screwed shut and his shoulders set rigidly. Jackson jumps, eyes flying open, bashing Jaebum’s chin with his forehead. He places a hand on his chest. “You scared me."

"Your head is like a rock,” Jaebum complains, rubbing his chin, before he notices the way Jackson is breathing shallowly, eyes on his lips. “Did you know that ears are my most sensitive spot?” he asks offhandedly, voice husky.

"Um...” Jaebum hedges, starting to flee, but before he knows what’s happening Jackson is kneeling backward on the couch, both hands locked around Jaebum’s neck as he hauls him down for a rough, hungry kiss. Jaebum splays his palms against Jackson’s face, straying beneath the neckline of his shirt and flattening against Jackson’s chest. His lips curl up in satisfaction against Jackson’s mouth as he feels the way Jackson’s heartbeat quickens against his hand.

Jackson always kisses so confidently, so recklessly that it makes Jaebum weak, his tongue darting impatiently along the seam of Jaebum’s lips to coax them open effortlessly, then grazing his own experimentally, dizzyingly before entangling them. He tastes like decaf and candy and bittersweet spearmint toothpaste, that unique Jackson taste that Jaebum can’t get enough of.

Jackson bites his lip hard, canines puncturing Jaebum’s lip and drawing blood. Jaebum is starting to only find out how Jackson really likes kissing when they are the same age, on equal terms – bruising and painful, not like the maddeningly gentle way he would hold back when Jaebum was still a teenager, no matter how much Jaebum wheedled and pushed him. But now, even at forty-two, Jackson makes Jaebum feel like he’s twenty-four.

He finds out how Jackson likes when Jaebum slides a possessive hand beneath his shirt, spanning the taut muscles of his abdomen and grazing his nipples. Jackson inhales softly and grabs fistfuls of Jaebum’s shirt, tongue exploring Jaebum’s mouth till he’s panting Jackson’s name.

Finally, when they are both gasping audibly for oxygen, Jaebum has to physically wrench himself away. Jackson looks so breathtakingly dazed and dishevelled, his irises blown pitch black and lips swollen and abused, seeking Jaebum’s mouth like a baby bird’s that Jaebum impulsively vaults over the back of the couch, nearly crushing Jackson as they fall into a tangled heap. Jackson makes a muffled oof sound like the breath is knocked out of him, and Jaebum hurriedly lifts his weight off him and searches his eyes apologetically. But Jackson is grinning wickedly as he braces his hands on Jaebum’s shoulders and climbs ungracefully into Jaebum’s lap, straddling him with his legs spread. Jackson gazes fondly into Jaebum’s eyes, tracing circles on his chest with his fingertips as Jaebum drags a teasing hand down Jackson’s thighs.

"Hyuuung,” Jackson whines, pouting. “Don’t tease."

Jaebum laughs with more pleasure than he probably should. “What were you doing?” he presses.

Jackson sighs, nosing into Jaebum’s neck and licking the sensitive skin there with a hot tongue. “I was trying to send myself back to the past."

Jaebum’s eyes widen, forgetting the blistering sensation of Jackson’s tongue on his neck as he grabs Jackson’s shoulders and pins his gaze. “You’ve learnt how to control...?"

Jackson shakes his head glumly, but his eyes are steely with determination. “But that won’t stop me from trying."

Jaebum softens, feeling an odd pang of jealousy towards his younger self whom Jackson is trying so desperately to travel back to, away from his current one. “When do you want to go back to?” he asks, and Jackson hesitates but replies honestly.

"The night I told you."

"Oh.” Jaebum swallows, realization dawning on him as his eleven-year-old feelings flood back, almost as fresh and raw as that day. “Don’t bother.” He puts on a cheerful smile. “I got over it, didn’t I?” he spreads his hands, reminding Jackson of where they are now, that they’re okay.

"I know,” Jackson says softly, smiling as he strokes Jaebum’s hair off his forehead. “But I’m still worried."

Jaebum understands that feeling of frustration that no one in the world except the two of them share, that feeling of hollow helplessness when they are ripped away from each other in the middle of important conversations, heated confrontations, even tender passion. That feeling of being left hanging, like crashing into a brick wall, unable to just turn off their emotions as easily as a faucet. He will never get accustomed to the feeling of being forcibly separated by time and space, with the sinking dread of not knowing when the next time will be, and the uncertainty if he will be able to bear the wait.

 

**45, 44**

"Jackson, wake up,” Jaebum hisses urgently in his ear, and Jackson groans, rolling over. He squints open his eyes groggily to find Jaebum’s hand clamped heavily over his chest.

"I can’t breathe,” Jackson complains, voice gravelly with sleep, but Jaebum only holds on tighter. “I just realized,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’ve never seen you after forty-eight."

"What?” Jackson blinks, still disoriented. Jaebum thinks he might be having a panic attack. “The first time I saw you, you were forty-eight,” he grits out. “After that, your age seemed to randomly fluctuate and decrease, but I never saw you older than that first day."

Jackson frowns. “How did you know I was forty-eight?” he jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “You must’ve been a little kid. I hardly think I told a brat how old I was."

"I knew because we met when you were forty-six, and you told me your age. Jackson, I know you and you looked about two years older that first day. I don’t know why I’m so sure about this, but I am,” Jaebum says grimly, and the words finally sink in.

"Oh,” Jackson says dully.

"Jackson.” Jaebum clutches his shoulders tightly, fingertips gripping bruises into Jackson’s skin. “What happens after forty-eight?"

Jackson meets his eyes, the fear in them mirroring Jaebum’s, and Jaebum’s heart drops to his stomach. “I don’t know."

 

**48, 47**

As he gets older, Jackson seems to lose his hold increasingly on the threads that anchor him to their time. Jaebum should have known that their two decades of relative stability were too blissful to last long, that they were already a lease of borrowed time. Jaebum sees with heartbreaking clarity the toll that each trip takes on Jackson, how it saps his energy and leaves him haggard and gaunt. Jackson pastes on a smile, not wanting Jaebum to worry, but Jaebum sees right through his feeble facade.

Jaebum knows that Jackson doesn’t only travel to Jaebum’s childhood – he also travels to other places, other times and countries that are unfamiliar and foreign and possibly dangerous. Jaebum sits alone in the vacant house, sick with worry with every passing minute of Jackson’s absence, only able to breathe normally again when Jackson reappears, looking weary and drawn but relieved.

Jaebum wakes up one winter morning to find Jackson breathing labouredly and fading in and out beside him, struggling to hold on to his tenuous grasp of their world. When Jaebum takes him into his arms, he’s freezing. Jaebum rubs his warm palms up and down Jackson’s cold back until he stops shivering.

"Jackson, baby,” he pleads, even though he knows it’s unfair. “Stay with me."

"Hyung,” Jackson whispers, eyes half-lidded and voice lost as a child’s. “I’m slipping–"

It’s been more than forty years, but every time Jackson goes, he still seems to take a piece of Jaebum along.

 

**50, 49**

Jaebum stands in the first pew of the church with his arms around Yugyeom and Bambam, watching as Jackson’s family and friends file past the casket respectfully, each person placing a single white lily, Jackson’s favourite flower, on the glass. Jackson had always seemed so infallible, so magical to Jaebum, appearing and disappearing from Jaebum’s life like an otherworldly being. But in death, Jackson looks entirely too human, completely mortal. Jaebum closes his eyes and wings a prayer that when he opens them he will be lying next to Jackson on their sun-drenched bed and Jackson will be laughing and teasing him, telling him it was all just a nightmare.

But when he opens them what he sees is Mark and Jinyoung on the podium fumbling over the words of their heartbrokenly-composed eulogy, Mark supporting Jinyoung when his knees give and he abruptly breaks into an anguished sob. Mark helps an inconsolable Jinyoung off the stage, setting off another bout of loud sniffling by the women in the audience, and Jaebum knows that it’s his turn, that he should go up and do damage control so Jackson’s funeral can remain dignified and respectable.

He shuffles up the stage, looking down at the baleful eyes of the crowd. He’s not surprised that Jackson had been loved by so many people, because Jackson had always drawn people to him like moths to a flame. He knows he’s not special, that he wasn’t the only one who had been susceptible to Jackson’s charm, but Jaebum comforts himself in knowing that he was the only one who had been loved by Jackson. At least, he was the person Jackson had loved most in this world.

Jaebum looks at the crumpled and creased paper in his hand, torn from a notebook, the ink blurred and smudged slightly by tear stains. He starts reading but breaks down when he looks into the audience to see Yugyeom and Bambam clutching each others’ hands tightly, uncharacteristic tears slipping soundlessly down their faces. It’s the sight of their two children swimming in black suits too big for them that does him in, that reminds him most of how much the three of them have lost with Jackson’s passing. The words he had planned to say now all seem so artificial, and Jaebum can’t bring himself to spout cliche condolences.

He thinks of the earth-shattering truth that not a single soul except himself knows, a tale so outlandish that no one will believe even if he tells them, a proof of a living miracle that had died with Jackson. He wants to shout out this secret that he has kept his entire life out on the rooftops, bare it to the whole world. But then it strikes him like a lightning bolt that the sentence _Jackson Wang was a time traveller_ is not the only thing he has to say.

Because Jackson was so many other things. Jackson was a time traveller, but time travelling was not what defined Jackson. Jaebum takes a deep, bracing breath and opens his mouth.

"I met Jackson when I was twenty-one, in my second year of university.” _I met Jackson when I was six, and he was forty-eight_. “We were classmates.” _We were strangers who were decades apart_. “We became good friends.” _We became soul mates_. “Jackson was a force of nature, as elemental and beautiful.” _He was a force that defied nature_. “He was so vivacious and volatile,” _He was an asshole sometimes, but he could also be an angel_. “and had such enormous appetites for living and loving.” _That it left me shaking_. “Even though we were both boys...” _Even though it was wrong and impossible_... “We fell in love." _We fell in love_. “I proposed to Jackson when I was thirty-one.” _I proposed when I was twenty_. “We got married and started a family.” _We adopted two beautiful kids_. “Jackson was the best father.” _The best in the world_. “But not only that, he was a beloved friend, son and husband.” _Dearly beloved_.

 

**53, 12**

Three years after Jackson passes away, Jaebum thinks that he has joined him in heaven when he sees Jackson again, backlit by the buttery yellow light of the afternoon sun, inexplicably looking about twelve years old but still unmistakably _Jackson_.

Then Jackson’s words filter over the years, finally making sense to him. _I’ve known you all my life_. Jaebum gasps softly as he finally understands the real extent of Jackson’s power. It was a truly formidable power, nothing short of a miracle, a gift which transcended death and allowed him to travel out of his lifetime.

Jackson is huddled in the corner with his hands over his head like a trapped animal, shaking in his threadbare t-shirt, and Jaebum’s heart swoops. He had never expected to see Jackson again. Of course, he had wondered, gone through all the _what if_ s and _maybe_ s, but he had never really believed that something so unreal could be a possibility.

But now, Jackson is right in front of him, defying all logic and breaking every single rule of time he has ever believed in, and Jaebum is not surprised. Because Jackson was the beautiful Chinese boy he had fallen in love with, who was a magician of time, a traveller of the ages. Jackson had always known that he would return to Jaebum, which was why he hadn’t been worried to leave Jaebum, knowing he would be well taken care of.

He lifts his weary body up from the armchair, joints creaking. As his footsteps approach tentatively, Jackson looks up, shoulders squared to fight and glowering at him, eyes darting from side to side like a cornered prey, but they widen with recognition when he sees Jaebum.

"Jaebum-hyung?” he whispers, and gets to his feet on trembling legs, falling limply into Jaebum’s arms.

Jaebum strokes his hand up and down Jackson’s back until it stops racking with quiet sobs, wondering what horrors Jackson must have seen at such a young age to make him so frightened, every sob feeling like a blade into Jaebum’s heart. He gathers that Jackson must have met him before, and feels grimly relieved and unbelievably happy at that prospect.

A distant memory filters into the back of his mind, like the refrain of a pop song from a faraway house. They were lying together in bed, on another ubiquitous languorous afternoon, and Jackson had turned to him with sudden gratefulness in his eyes and said, _I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there for me_.

Jackson might have been talking about any number of occasions, but Jaebum suddenly knows with unaccountable certainty that he was talking about his childhood, where he had met Jaebum in his twilight years. And this is how Jaebum knows that he has to be patient and understanding, all-accepting, watching over Jackson silently the way Jackson always watched over him. He wishes he had the chance to tell Jackson that he didn’t know what he would have done had Jackson not been an integral part of his childhood too, but Jaebum comforts himself by cradling the back of twelve-year-old Jackson’s head with a tender hand and crooning Jackson’s favourite English lullaby into his ear until he falls asleep in Jaebum’s arms.

 

**56, 7**

The greatest regret of Jaebum’s life is that he had never managed to figure out the English words Jackson had said to him on the very first day they met. Even though he had been well-taught by Jackson over the years and is literate in English now, he simply cannot remember. The curiosity is killing Jaebum, and his second biggest regret is that he never asked Jackson what he had said when he was still living.

The next time Jackson appears in his house, Jaebum is ready. In the past few years, he has been dedicatedly preparing for Jackson’s arrival, always keeping the kitchen well-stocked with Jackson’s favourite snacks and redecorating an entire room into a playroom, installing it with state-of-the-art gadgets and the most expensive toys. Jaebum finds himself spending more and more time sitting in the room daydreaming, an odd feeling of peace and serenity stealing over him as he indulges in memories of Jackson.

He falls asleep in the rocking chair by the window one day, and when he wakes up Jackson is perched in his lap, blinking up at him with curious, heartbreakingly innocent eyes.

"How old are you?” Jaebum says gently, afraid to move lest this is a dream and Jackson will burst like bubbles at a touch.

Jackson’s face splits into an artless grin, revealing a missing tooth. He holds up seven fingers.

"Do you want to... play?” Jaebum says hesitantly, and Jackson nods enthusiastically. Jaebum watches with fond tenderness as Jackson kills monsters and races cars on the Playstation and Xbox, which are the latest models and probably not existent in Jackson’s time yet. Watching Jackson’s inexhaustible energy makes Jaebum feel alive again, like the way he used to feel when Jackson was still around.

 

Sometimes Jaebum wonders – if Jackson had been a normal boy who didn’t have the ability to travel through time, would they still have a chance to meet? Or would they remain in two different countries all their lives, so near yet so far, the trajectories of their existences like two parallel lines, bypassing but never intersecting?

Jaebum thinks that maybe, just maybe, Jackson’s time-travelling might have been a blessing instead of a curse. He had spent his whole life alongside Jackson fighting against time, fighting _for_ time, and even though they hadn’t come out successful in the end, Jaebum realizes that he wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.

 

**60, 5**

When Jaebum wakes up on his sixtieth birthday and sees the child – barely a toddler – curled up beside him on his bed, sleeping soundly with his thumb in his mouth, his heart leaps into his throat. He’s so young that Jaebum almost can’t recognize him, can’t believe that this defenceless child – this boy who looks like he’s just learning to walk and talk – is the confident and cocky Jackson Wang, the love of Jaebum’s life. And yet – and yet the boy’s long, dusky eyelashes flutter open, revealing dark, shimmering orbs, ones that Jaebum knows with unshakable certainty in the depths of his very bones.

The moment he realizes it’s Jackson, Jaebum feels a pang of helpless protectiveness. Jackson shouldn’t be time-travelling this young – no one should have to, at any age, but definitely not this early. Jaebum’s heart clenches as he imagines how frightened and bewildered Jackson must have felt, suddenly sucked up by the dark oblivion of time and churned in its unfathomable depths until he landed in a strange old man’s bed. But he is glad that his hands are the ones time has chosen to place Jackson in, because till Jackson can take care of himself, Jaebum will be Jackson’s guardian angel the same way Jackson had once watched over him.

As he looks down at Jackson’s enormous, mournful eyes, Jaebum wonders how he will break this life-altering truth to Jackson. It’s too big a revelation for someone so frail, so tiny and unequipped to deal with such a crushing blow. Jaebum wishes he could protect Jackson from all the dangers in the world, buffeting him from the winds and rain, always be his unfailingly safe harbour. But he knows that the only way he can protect Jackson is to prepare him in as many ways he can for the difficult years to come.

Jaebum knows that even though this is an ending for him, everything is just beginning for Jackson. This is how their love song will play – like a ballad on repeat, a broken tape on eternal loop.

Jackson starts to cry, making Jaebum flustered as he fusses over Jackson, stroking his downy head helplessly and cooing wordless soothing murmurs into his ear. Suddenly, Jackson’s pudgy hand reaches out and closes in a death grip around Jaebum’s finger. He stares at Jaebum unblinkingly through mutely entreating tears.

"Jackson-ah,” Jaebum says hoarsely, and the name seems to miraculously silence Jackson’s sniffling sobs, stilling him as he looks up at Jaebum with eyes so trusting and familiar that it brings Jaebum to his knees.

"Don’t be afraid,” Jaebum begins softly, in the halting vowels of the Chinese Jackson taught him. “My name is Jaebum, and I’ve known you all my life..."

 

* * *

 

**48, 6**

The last thing Jackson sees before he closes his eyes is Jaebum at forty-nine, and the first thing he sees when he opens them is Jaebum at six. He takes in the scratchy darkness surrounding him, and gets unsteadily to his feet, brushing twigs and leaves off his clothes as he steps out of the shrubbery.

Jaebum is staring at him, eyes wide as saucers, and Jackson resists the urge to laugh hysterically as he realizes he probably isn’t making a very good first impression, and that the laugh that Jaebum will come to find so sexy when he grows up will most likely send him running away screaming now.

Thankfully, Jaebum remains unmoving, and Jackson sinks into a crouch, meeting his eyes straight on. “Don’t be afraid,” Jackson says, trying to telegraph volumes of unspeakable words to Jaebum with his eyes, and impossibly, Jackson thinks he sees a glimmer of recognition somewhere deep in the pools of Jaebum’s eyes as he says his name.

It loosens the floodgates, and Jackson’s tongue feels thick and parched in his mouth as he trips over his words, blurting out, “Hyung.” Jaebum looks confused and Jackson has the sense of mind to switch to English before he continues.

"I was always trying to find a deeper meaning to this, wondering why I kept travelling back to the same place, the same boy. I’ve spent my entire life trying to control my ability, asking myself, _Why me?_ I thought I wanted to know how to stop travelling through time. I didn’t know that what I really wanted to know was how to travel towards you."

It’s only when Jaebum reaches out a guileless, tiny hand to brush Jackson’s cheeks does he realize that they are wet. Jackson is overcome by the sudden, intense need to touch Jaebum, this precocious six-year-old child who can already bring an adult to his knees, who Jackson is so proud, so ferociously proud of. He can already see in this little boy the man Jaebum will grow into – upstanding, compassionate, full of love and generous with sharing it.

A shout rings from the house as Jaebum’s nanny calls him in for tea, and Jackson drops his hand, stricken. Jaebum gazes at him with depthless, searching eyes, and Jackson tries to keep his smile undimmed and the sorrow out of his voice as he says lightly, “Run along, then."

He knows that this is the first meeting for Jaebum, even though it might be the last for him. First or last? Jackson’s mind is getting fuzzy, his consciousness blurring. It’s too early. He looks up to see Jaebum flying across the field, like his feet have sprouted wings. Jackson smiles and looks down to see his arms ending at his wrists, replaced by thin air.

Jackson calls Jaebum’s name in a whisper softer than rustling leaves, immediately whipped up by the wind, but Jaebum seems to hear it across the distance, his feet halting. Jackson lifts his hands to wave, but remembers that they are gone. He tries to curve his lips into one last smile, but his mouth has disappeared too. What is left of him is only his eyes, watching Jaebum until the very last second before he is plunged into the swirling darkness of time again. Even when Jackson is no longer there Jaebum seems to sense his presence, turning around and staring right at the very spot he was, his eyes disappearing in a breathtakingly sweet smile. Jackson smiles back with his eyes, before they fade away too.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a real throwback for me because i wrote it in august 2014... i can't believe more than two years has passed wow ;; it was originally only readable in my gotchickoldfics comm but i decided to crosspost it here because some readers have told me they wanted to read it publicly and more easily, and also because this is one of the fics i worked the hardest on and one of the few of my works im not completely ashamed of lol. i won't be bringing the rest of my fics on lj here simply because im too lazy though LOL. fun fact about this fic i never mentioned before: it was greatly inspired by the movie lucy starring scarlett johanssen (sorry if i spelt her name wrongly orz) i pretty much wrote the entirety of it after i came back from the movie feeling shook back then. also im sorry for what i said about bambam's name in the fic haha i love it and i loove him. thank you very much if you read the whole thing :))


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